


A Future That's Ours to Make

by MakinaNeko



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Getting Together, Human!Spock, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Party, Pre-Relationship, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28408908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakinaNeko/pseuds/MakinaNeko
Summary: "Professor Spock."Nyota is surprised to see him here. Not so much from the fact that Jim invited him, but that he accepted at all. She wouldn't have taken him for the type of guy to mix with students. Though he can't be much older than they are, she thinks, realizing for the first time how young he looks without the strict professor attire. It tugs at something in her chest, something that has lodged there ever since he walked in the classroom that first day."I am poorly acquainted with this sort of event. Is this behavior typical of your peers in such circumstances?" he says, gesturing toward the few tens of people in various states of intoxication, laughing, talking, flirting."Yes, it is.""Yet you do not seem to partake."She doesn't admit the truth, which is she only came because Gaila wouldn't drop the subject, saying it was "time for her to have fun, and finally get laid, now there wasn't anything to study for". She had intended to go back home as soon as socially acceptable.Now, though, she doesn't feel in such a hurry to leave.
Relationships: Gaila/James T. Kirk (minor), Spock/Nyota Uhura
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	A Future That's Ours to Make

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!
> 
> I am very excited to post this story (it's only my second; all of this is still new to me). I hope you will find it enjoyable.
> 
> I know it's usual to publish Christmas-themed stories around this period of the year… well, mine has more of a summer taste (which isn't incompatible if you're living in the southern hemisphere). Hope it works for you!
> 
> Consider it a little end-of-year treat to remind us of summertime and hint at (hopefully) better times to come.
> 
> I'd love to hear from you. If you have time, don't hesitate to let me know what you thought about this story with a comment. Feedback and kudos greatly appreciated!
> 
> Stay safe, everyone.

The music blares high and loud through the windows of Jim Kirk's house. Everything -- from the high-pitched laughs of teenage girls to the splashing sounds coming from the pool -- screams "high-school party", and Nyota already wants to leave.

"Don't you dare chicken out on me, Nyota Uhura," warns Gaila, glaring at her. Without taking her eyes off Nyota, she knocks at the door.

"Jim !"

Gaila actually squeals when Kirk opens the door, and Nyota can't help rolling her eyes.

"Hey, Gaila!" says Kirk, kissing her on both cheeks. The corner of his lips twitches as he looks at Nyota over Gaila's shoulder, a repressed smirk that usually precedes Kirk's ostensible joke attempts. Still, he only says, "Uhura, I'm glad you could make it here tonight."

From what Nyota glimpses behind Kirk, the party is already well started. Gaila tries to get past him, but he stops her.

"Wait. Have you got the password?"

A frown creases Gaila's forehead as she looks at Kirk quizzically. "What password?"

"I'll give you a hint. It's Uhura's first name."

Nyota elbows him in the chest. "Very funny, Kirk."

"Ouch, that stings," says Kirk in mock hurt, but letting them enter. "You're no fun, Uhura. Now that school is over, you can as well tell me."

"In your dreams, Kirk," Nyota says, walking past him to enter the house.

"Well, Uhura," -- Kirk's insufferable smirk has grown even wider -- "as it is the last party of your high-school years, and since I've heard it's also the first, let me give you some pointers: you'll find some fun in liquid form in the kitchen, in case you eventually decide to enjoy yourself tonight."

Nyota has a snarky reply on the tip of her tongue, but Kirk has already turned around, an arm around Gaila's waist.

"Sorry," Gaila mouthes silently back over her shoulder.

Nyota shrugs and walks in the direction Kirk indicated as the kitchen. She takes a Bud Light in the fridge, keeping it in her hand -- an alibi she intends to use so that no one insists on serving her another drink -- while never actually sipping from it.

She scans the crowd in front of her, a mix of senior and junior year students, some she recognizes from having taken a class together, others she could swear she never saw before.  
There is one figure, still, standing out of the crowd of inebriated students, given away by his stiff posture and a slight awkwardness in how he holds his drink.

"Professor Spock."

"Ms. Uhura." He acknowledges her presence with a short nod.

Nyota is surprised to see him here. Not so much from the fact that Jim invited him, but that he accepted at all. She wouldn't have taken him for the type of guy to mix with students. Though he can't be much older than they are, she thinks, realizing for the first time how young he looks, without the strict professor attire. It tugs at something in her chest, something that has lodged there ever since he walked in the classroom that first day, something she tried -- and mostly failed -- to ignore, as he taught them Computer Science with his even, measured tone, his eyes dark and piercing on her every time she asked a question.

Her gaze snaps back to his eyes when she realizes she has spent far too long staring at his chest for it to be appropriate. Spock's eyes flicker back up to hers almost instantly. Almost. It makes her a bit self-conscious, suddenly second-guessing her choice of a simple red dress, the one she loves and that Gaila swears is absolutely boring.

Nyota clears her throat. "Are you enjoying the party?" It's a bit awkward -- since he is obviously not -- but better still than if she had asked if he was having fun, a concept so at odds with his tall, quiet figure that it makes her smile before she stops herself and starts worrying her lip instead.

Spock gestures toward the room. "I am poorly acquainted with this sort of event. Is this behavior typical of your peers in such circumstances?"

Before them, a few tens of people in various states of intoxication are laughing, talking, flirting. Some more couples dance at the center of the room -- where Nyota can see Gaila lasciviously wrapped all over Kirk -- with many others energetically moving to the sound of music that appears mostly constituted of a bass beat and atonal shrieks. From the sounds coming through the windows, there are probably as many people outside of the house, lounging on the lawn or frolicking in the pool.

"Yes, it is."

"Yet you do not seem to partake."

She doesn't admit the truth, which is she only came because Gaila wouldn't drop the subject, saying it was "time for her to have fun, and finally get laid, now there wasn't anything to study for". She had intended to make a brief appearance and then head back to her Aunt's house as soon as socially acceptable. Now, though, she doesn't feel in such a hurry to leave.

She shrugs. "You don't, either. Anyway, I didn't think Kirk and you were friends, after all that happened in January."

The incident had been the talk of the high school for a whole month. Professor Spock had accused Jim Kirk of cheating during the Computer Science exam. Kirk, being the obnoxious jerk he was, refused to back down, and when Spock called the security to drag him out of the classroom, Kirk punched one of the guys in the face. Spock had to step in, tossing Kirk into a heap on the ground in one graceful motion.

"We are not friends, though I do not bear him any animosity."

Of course, Kirk got an official reprimand, but it could have been far worse for him. Rumor has it that Professor Spock personally asked the School Principal to abstain from expelling Kirk, on the condition that Jim would spend every Saturday in detention under his supervision. She heard from Scotty, the physics TA, that Professor Spock made Kirk remove the snow from the high school grounds while drilling him on algorithms each Saturday for a whole month. Kirk never confirmed nor denied the fact.

"Class will seem dull next year without him to challenge your every word," Nyota jokes.

"I will not be part of the teaching staff of Academy High School next year."

"You won't? I thought --" she starts. _I thought you would tell us if you left. I thought --_ Not that it matters anyway, as they're all getting into college after the summer. Whether he stays or not, she wouldn't see him anymore.

"It was always meant to be a temporary placement."

Nyota wants to ask what it intends to do, or where he will go, but it feels maybe too personal a question, so instead, she says, "Today is probably the last time I see most of these people. It's a bit weird, after spending so many years together."

"Formative experiences such as high school tend to foster strong bonds between individuals. It is natural to feel nostalgia."

"I don't know. I've always been the odd one out. There are not many people I'm close to." Nyota shrugs. Except for Gaila -- and in a very annoying, infuriating kind of way, Kirk -- there is no one here she can claim as more than an acquaintance.

Spock's eyes are soft on her. "In college, you will meet many like-minded individuals with whom you share interests. I trust you will soon find a group in which you will feel truly accepted."

Nyota smiles weakly. "Thank you for cheering me up. Anyway, one thing I won't be nostalgic about is the whole college application process. I'm so glad it is over."

"Considering your exceptional academic record, I have no doubt that you will be able to enter whichever college you choose."

Nyota swallows. "Well, thank you."

"It was not meant as a compliment, only the simple statement of a fact." His eyes bore into hers with an unusual intensity.

"Actually, I got the acceptance letter from Starfleet University this morning," she says, looking down at the now lukewarm drink in her hand. She felt such elation when she opened the letter with trembling hands. She had to read it twice before she let herself believe what was plainly written on the paper, that she was accepted to "The Enterprise", Starfleet's flagship campus.

"I believe it is customary to offer you congratulations on this instance."

Nyota laughs. "You make it sound as if it were some puzzling tradition of an alien society."

"Perhaps it is," says Spock, and Nyota is almost certain that the corner of his lips is turned upwards in a subtle, understated smile.

She is still studying this smile when he adds, "I am also bound to Starfleet University this fall."

Nyota can't contain her curiosity. "Really? What are you going to do there?"

"Professor Pike offered me employment on his team. I will also teach several courses in the Computer Science and Linguistics department."

"I think it's my turn to congratulate you. That's an amazing opportunity. I heard Pike's team is one of the most advanced in the field, that they're considering him for the Nobel Prize someday."

Spock doesn't answer, just inclines his head to acknowledge her remark, so she continues.  
"We might meet again on the campus, then."

Or in the classroom, she doesn't add, which is a very real possibility considering the number of linguistics courses she intends to take. A possibility that's both alluring and a bit disheartening, and one she doesn't want to think about just yet, as tonight of all nights, they are no longer a student and a teacher, but two guests at Kirk's loud, brazen, outrageous high-school graduation party.

"Kirk is also going to Starfleet," says Nyota to fill the silence between them. Gaila told her so when Nyota excitedly called her to share the good news.

"I am aware."

He doesn't speak after that, and she doesn't either, as it doesn't seem to remain anything to say on the subject. She fidgets with the bottle in her hands, desperately looking for a new topic of conversation, and takes a gulp. The bitter taste makes her cringe.

"Oh my God, that's so awful. How can anyone drink that ?"

"I was hoping you would enlighten me on the matter."

There's definitely a smile on his lips, she is quite sure, and it makes her a little bolder.

"Come on, let's get some real drinks." She takes his hand and drags him to the kitchen, where most of the bottles have been stored. He doesn't remove his hand, and she is acutely aware, in a way that makes her palms tingle, of the warmth of his fingers against hers.

There are a handful of other students coming in and out of the kitchen, none of them granting more than a cursory glance to Nyota and the tall, dark figure trailing her.

Nyota lets go of his hand, the implications of what it would mean to keep him there too difficult to contemplate, here in the harsh light of the kitchen. She shuffles the bottles around, finally selecting a suspiciously bright red drink. She pours the liquid in two goblets slightly too large to be shot glasses and hands one to Spock.

He takes the glass up under his nose, frowning. "Is this safe for human consumption?"

Nyota smiles. "Safe in an imprecise term. Come on, let's get outside," she says, stepping out through the kitchen door into the garden.

This side of the house has not been invaded by rowdy students, and with the last traces of the sunset still lighting the upper atmosphere, there is an eerie calm to the place.

"You have to drink it in one go," Nyota says. Spock raises a single eyebrow, challenging her, so she tilts her head back and swallows the liquid in a single gulp. She has to fight the need to choke as the alcohol goes down in her throat with a burning sensation. From the corner of her eyes, she sees Spock following her example.

She doesn't drink, as a rule, and she doesn't exactly know what possessed her to do so just now, she thinks as a comfortable warmth sets up in her stomach.

"It seems the ethanol content of this liquid is quite high." Spock's voice is a bit hoarse, maybe, and there is a slight flush to his cheeks.

"That's vodka, so you can't really get higher than that," Nyota says. "It's still terrible, but at least, you know what you drink it for."

"Is that so? Then what do you drink it for?"

"To take off the edge." Spock's eyes are locked on hers, which makes her stomach flutter. He parts his lips to begin to speak.

"S--Spock, Uhura, b--buddies, you're my buddies, right?" Kirk's words are slurred as he suddenly slumps between them, his left arm grabbing Nyota's shoulder awkwardly, then sliding down to her waist. On the other side, Spock's posture has gone even more rigid than usual, and she can see Kirk has clutched him by the elbow.

"I want to make a toast, and I need my buddies with me, so you two come on." Kirk starts back toward the main room, dragging Nyota by the waist, bumping his hip into hers in a way that's probably unintentional but which would have made her retaliate at any other time.

"Just let go of me Kirk, I'm coming," she says, scowling at him.

Kirk leads them back inside, where Leonard McCoy and Gaila are waiting by the stereo.

"Hi, Len," says Nyota. Of course, he would be here. Even if he is now a medical school student older than all the kids here, he would never refuse Kirk anything. Nyota is genuinely glad to see him. She often said, only half-jokingly, that Leonard McCoy was the most likable part of James Kirk.

"Hello, Nyota darlin'." He gives her a short hug, and then she turns to see that Kirk has stopped the music to get everyone's attention. Spock is not here, and Nyota turns around again to scan the room. He is in the entrance, obviously about to leave, but she catches his gaze, and her mouth articulates the word 'stay'. He hesitates, then comes back, standing next to her close enough that their elbows almost brush when she moves.

A squealing feedback noise erupts from the speakers, and Nyota winces.

"Hi everyone, this is your captain speaking."

Nyota sighs. Kirk's affectation to be called 'Captain' verges on the absurd.

"I am glad you guys could all come here tonight. Today is a very special day. We're here to celebrate..."

Random cheers erupt in the crowd, but Kirk's voice doesn't falter.

"... We're here to celebrate the fact that, starting today, we're all gonna make our own path, and boldly go, where no one has gone before. Our future !"

"It will be hard... " Kirk continues.

"That's what she said!" shouts a guy Nyota doesn't recognize in the back of the room, eliciting some laughs from the crowd, but Kirk plows on unfazed.

"... but that future is ours -- and only ours -- to make." Kirk takes a sip from his glass, waiting for the cheers to die out, and then goes on.

"Today is also my birthday…"

Several people in the room shout 'Happy Birthday!', but Kirk is still not finished.

"... Which means today is also the anniversary of the day my dad sacrificed his life so that his wife and unborn child could live."

The mood is turning in the room, everyone listening with rapt attention as Kirk continues.

"He gave his life so that I could have a present and a future. I intend to celebrate his gift to me by making this future as bright as he would have wished me to."

Around Nyota, people seem to hold their breaths, focusing solely on Kirk's words.

"Each one of you has someone who renounced something, however small, so that you could be here today. I want you to remember them now, and then enjoy your present and invent your own future, in acknowledgment of their sacrifice. Kirk out."

There are a few seconds of silence. Then applause slowly erupts in the room.

"George Kirk was a close friend of Professor Pike. He always speaks very highly of him," Spock whispers in Nyota's ear as the chatter in the room progressively returns to its previous level.

"I knew he was a professor in Starfleet. I didn't know…" she trails.

Kirk rarely speaks of his father. She knows what everyone knows, mostly, since the event made the headlines at the time. 'University Professor Savagely Murdered', it said. A man had attacked the Kirk family in their home, and George Kirk had confronted him, buying time to let his young son and pregnant wife escape. The attacker fatally shot George Kirk and fled before the police's arrival, never to be found again.

It was a tragic story; one Kirk rarely told anyone. It should probably count as a mark of trust that Kirk had disclosed some of this painful story to Nyota. To the world, Kirk preferred to present a handsome face and a confident smile, one that most people wouldn't suspect could hide much darker thoughts and moods.

"I believe Professor Pike has been instrumental in getting James to apply to Starfleet University since he would not initially consider it."

"Do you know him well? Professor Pike, I mean."

"He was my Ph.D. advisor."

Nyota is unsure about how to frame her next question. "Can I ask you something?"

"In addition to your current inquiry, you mean?"

"Yes," Nyota says, slightly bemused. "How old are you?"

If he is surprised by her question, he doesn't let on.

"Twenty-four."

Nyota doesn't answer, pensively playing with a strand of her hair. Not that old, actually. Barely older than McCoy, who is twenty-two -- with the soul of a crabby eighty-year-old.

Nyota stifles a yawn in her hand.

"You are tired. Do you want to leave?" Spock asks.

"Do you?" Her response is automatic, escaping her mouth before she can examine how absurd it is. They did not come together; she shouldn't expect him to leave with her.

"If you leave, I will be leaving as well."

Something in his tone, in how carefully he observes her, makes her heart hammer a bit in her chest, and she says, "Let's go, then."

Looking around her, she can't find Kirk, or Gaila. They've probably retired somewhere more 'private'. Nyota prefers not to know.

In a corner, McCoy is talking to a junior year girl Nyota knows from her literature class. She comes closer to get his attention.

"Bye, Len, see you later. If you see Kirk or Gaila, tell them I'm getting back home."

"Do you need me to walk you back?"

"It's ok, it's not that far, really, plus I already got company for the way back," she says, pointing back to Spock, who is standing a few feet behind.

McCoy frowns. "Isn't he a bit old for you, sweetheart? Please be careful."

She pats his arm affectionately. "You know I am, Len. And Professor Spock hardly is a threat to my integrity."

"Not so sure about that," grumbles McCoy under his breath. Nyota pretends not to hear.

As she takes her light jacket, Spock says, "Dr. McCoy does not appear overly fond of me."

Nyota laughs. "Don't call him Doctor just yet, it'll go straight to his head. And don't mind him, he is just being his usual, charming self. I guess bedside manners aren't taught that well in medical school."

Outside, the cool night air is charged with all the smells of the late spring, and a dryness that hints of the summer that's about to come.

"Which way do you go?" She feels silly for not asking before, and she tries not to feel too disappointed by the idea they might have to part ways just now.

"I am going downtown. I can accompany you to your house."

Relief pours over Nyota. She doesn't know what to expect from these few more minutes in his company, but all she knows is that the perspective of saying goodbye and letting their next meeting to a chance encounter on the Starfleet campus makes her throat a little too tight, her chest a bit too constricted.

Then, the realization hits her, and she stops dead in her tracks.

"Hey, how do you know where I live?"

"I--" his voice falters, and when she turns toward him, she's sure there is a darker flush to his face.

"Jim told you, didn't he?"

"As a teacher, I have access to the school's student database," he says without meeting her eyes.

Nyota feels a wide grin stretch across her face.

"You stalker," she says teasingly, pushing him playfully on the chest.

"I assure you I did not intend--"

"Spock, it's fine. I'm only joking."

The silence is comfortable between them as they walk side by side, a careful 3 or 4 feet apart, but Nyota feels uncertain. Can she ask him out? Is it weird to want to date a man that was her professor just a week ago, and might well be again in a few months? Is he truly too old for her, as McCoy told her? Is he even interested in her? For all her flirtatious attitude tonight, she never got any negative reaction, but it's not like he is easy to read. It would be beyond awkward if Spock rejected her, and then she had to spend the year in one of the courses he taught.

Nyota is so engrossed in her thoughts that she barely registers the fact they're before her Aunt's house. Spock turns to face her, and she nearly bumps into him.

"Sorry," she apologizes, "I just spaced out." She raises her eyes to look at him one last time before saying goodbye. So many options. So many things she could have said. But she didn't, and as she desperately scrambles for something to say-- anything, really -- so that he won't say good night just yet, she sees him as in slow motion parting his lips to pronounce the words that will draw the evening to a close.

"Ms. Uhura --"

"Nyota, please call me Nyota," she interrupts. She's stalling, she knows. But her brain is fried, unable to assemble the coherent thoughts and syntactic structures necessary to just. Ask. Him. Out.

"Nyota, may I see you again?"

She hears the words, but it takes a second or two to her synapses to parse the meaning, and then she feels a hot flush running down from her face to her extremities, leaving her palms tingling in its wake.

"I'd like that."

"When?" His response is so immediate, so eager, that it would make her smile, maybe, if she wasn't so light-headed, everything around her a bit hazy and far away.

"How about tomorrow?" she hears herself answer.

"There is an exhibition at the fine art museum, would you--"

"Yes. Spock, my answer will be yes, whatever you propose."

She sees his throat work as he swallows and says, "If you are amenable then, I will come to fetch you here at 11."

"That's perfect." She can't get her eyes off him, can't stop detailing his striking features barely outlined by the city lights, doesn't even try, in fact, as he returns her gaze with equal intensity.

"Goodnight, Nyota."

She has to get up on her toes to lay a kiss on the smooth skin of his cheek. "Good night, Spock," she murmurs against his ear. When she gets down, his warm fingers gently brush her jaw. She takes his hand in hers and flips it to kiss his palm. It's just a quick kiss, but she hears the quietest sigh escaping his lips. She wouldn't be averse to provoking more sighs of this kind from him in the future.

She lets go of his hand, rubbing her fingers against her palm, and walks toward the door of the house. It's only a few yards, but it feels like an eternity before she feels the handle, cold and solid in her hand, and she lets herself turn around one last time. He is still there, dark eyes aimed at her.

"See you tomorrow," Nyota whispers.

A future, one she couldn't have imagined for herself just a few hours ago, barely sketched in the eye of her imagination, is starting to take shape. Nyota is ready to grab it with both hands.

 _Mine_ , she thinks. _Mine to make._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> A few more words:
> 
> This story is not related to my [previous work](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28179891), except for the underlying theme "Spock and Uhura at a party", which seems to inspire me a lot. Spock's social awkwardness in this situation is just too cute to ignore.
> 
> Also, this story is a one-shot for the moment, but I may write a second part, which would actually be a prequel from Spock's POV, about how he came to be invited to this party and Jim's not-so-innocent role in getting these two together. It's only partly plotted and written, though, so I can't promise anything about when this would be published. If you're interested, don't hesitate to let me know. It really helps me to keep on writing!
> 
> Hope to hear from you :)


End file.
